


Olfactory Events

by Vera_DragonMuse



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-07
Updated: 2005-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 02:24:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_DragonMuse/pseuds/Vera_DragonMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which, Remus is a rentboy and the wolf finds its alpha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Olfactory Events

**Author's Note:**

> Slight AU, written after book five was released.

No one would have guessed that the plain brick building on 25 Arbunkle was anything other then what it appeared had they been walking by it on any given bright summer day. The small garden out front bloomed gaily in multitudes of color and the freshly painted sign out front that billed it only as Alexander Comfort and Company.

For years, customers had made their way to the pleasant structure and come out with wider smiles and lighter billfolds. The exterior of the building, like a well painted woman, hide a multitude of whoring sins. The entrance hall matched the outside with a row of hooks for heavy winter cloaks and a beefy matron with a floral print dress to take down your information and galleons. Then up a wood paneled staircase to the lounge.

Here the likeness to a cottage business ceases. The lounge is done entirely in oak and dark red satin. The undeniable smell of too many bodies and sex clings to the air. You sit on one of the many chairs, watch some of the shows, talk with the other business man, maybe even the occasional well to do woman. But all the time your mind is on the men, boys some of them, in the room beyond. When your turn comes, a well coifed butler swings open the door. In you go clutching with sweaty palms at robes that gradually become clammy with anticipation.

A line of us will be there, smiling our fake seductive smiles. Some of us are men already, strong and burly for those who want to submit while others are only just out of boyhood, still slight as children with the rags of their innocence paraded out for you. Will you even see me? I who am neither burly nor slight, but something distinctly in-between?

The scents that laden the room burden me in a way I cannot explain. I'm constantly told to stop flaring my nostrils, that it disturbs the customers. The others don't much like me nor can I blame them. Not when every month, they lose some of their custom to men who want to see the change of a werewolf. It is a sideshow grotesque that most bordellos would avoid. Alexander, our nominal master, was not interested in specializing in anything. But money is tight with the unspoken war brewing and Alexander knows when to give up his personal quibbles for the sake of a buck.

I wasn't a particularly good whore because I knew all too well what each client wanted of me. Huge men would pick me, thinking they desired me to submit to them, but the wolf was not easily fooled. It knew all the signs of those who wished to be mastered. I never did learn to do as I was asked with words and not scent.

I stand now, in the line, as customers come and go with the others. I get my fair share of appreciative looks and sooner or later I will be chosen. I will lead someone down yet another hall to the small room I must also live in. If I'm lucky, they are intrigued by the ugly network of scars on my right shoulder, instead of disgusted. If I'm very lucky, I will get someone who only wants the quickest service and tips handsomely. Most of my money is made off of the monthly shows.

The human part of me dislikes the prostitution business. As a seventeen year old, sex is easy to have and not as much fun as one would imagine when a certain point of rawness is reached. But the wolf in me despises it. Submitting to those it could easily kill rankles the beast beyond description. Worse still is mastering those who are more then equal. The wolf within me is not one of lone wolves of Steppes, but one that longs for a pack.

When I first arrived, it called toward the waifish boys and built men, but they soon proved unworthy companions. Most of them had been failures at real life or like me had hidden natures that kept them from entering the wizarding world as anything else. I had not even a friend among them, except for a single distant conversational partner. Severus never works regularly, like many of the other boys he does something else with his days and some of his nights. I never know when he'll be about and if he'll be in the mood to talk.

We have in common only age and the fact that we aren't particularly popular with the customers. Severus doesn't have a beast to blame. His hooked nose and dark glowers make him a formidable figure. When we line up, he stands at a distance from the end, arms folded defiantly into voluminous black sleeves. Some pick him out of sheer perversity, sensing something of the fallen aristocrat in him perhaps. Others have heard of his wicked tongue and the strength of his hand with a whip.

Tonight he is no where to be seen, so I stand on the end by myself, eyes cast down and contemplating the plush carpeting. Two blowjobs already tonight and one handjob, that would buy me a new robe. The hem of the one I'm wearing is frayed and the cuffs are threatening to go next. Engrossed in teasing at one of the threads, Severus' voice shocks me.

"This one, Master."

A sudden hush falls over the room. The others back away, leaving me obviously isolated. The wolf tells me to run for cover as it would when confronted with another predator. Severus touches the side of my face lightly, the first time he has ever laid a finger on me. Over his shoulder I can see a cloaked and masked man. He has no scent, makes little noise as he moves behind Severus, pushing the younger man out of the way.

"You are the werewolf?" Goosebumps rise all over my body and I cannot conceive of any moment that isn't this one. The strength of his voice. And now..oh...now I can smell him and it's so strong I don't know how I could have missed it before. Sultry and deep, the wolf rises within me for the first time without anger and only the smallest bit of fear. It spoke in the low growl. Kindred.

"Yes, sir." I bow my head, lower then I intended. Barring my neck.

"Have him brought to my chambers."

The delicious presence leaves. My skin prickles with the cold sweat that had come over me.

"Come with me, Remus." It is the most gentle tone I have ever heard from Severus. It should make me wonder, but I am too filled with the beast to do more then follow him docile as a lamb. He takes me back to my own little room. I don't remember if he has ever been here before. Surely he hasn't, but he moves with a familiarity among my scant belongings as I sit, still trembling. He choses a few articles of clothing and tosses them my way.

"Get that on, now. There isn't much time."

"For what? Is that man...is he a client?"

"The most important you'll ever had." Black eyes rake over me. I should know no shame, Severus has seen me in every state of near undress, but tonight I feel his gaze all over me. The tight jeans are intentionally worn down, showing off patches of skin and the shirt is little more then a navy blue suggestion of covering. "Can you apperate?"

"Not until I turn eighteen." My head swam, Severus should know that I couldn't. After all he's only sixteen...

"Then close your eyes and think about the color green."

Before I could question the directive, I'm wrapped in Severus thickly cloaked body. The world goes dark.

)*(

This was many years ago now, you understand. Long years before my Lord's empire was felled by a tiny child, time yet before the plan that would be his downfall had even been suggested. I'm a different person now, no longer quite as ruled by the beast as was. Time has taken youth, pack and devotion from me, but it left me the strongest parts of myself. And now those days...they seem distant and tasteless in the harsh light of day.

But at night. At night I can still hear his breath in my ears and the catch of his teeth on my flanks.

)*(

We arrive directly into a bedroom. The whole of it is done tastefully in muted browns and cream. Obviously some woman had hand in it, considering the amount of pillows and the consistency of the decor. It looks rarely used with only a minimum of personal items on top of the bureau. The only clashing piece is a small crest inlaid in the wooden head board of the bed. I can make out the crawl of a snake on a field of silver and green. My knowledge of wizarding life is piecemeal. I know only that this is a crest of some school or another. It will mean more to me one day then I could ever imagine.

"He will come for you." Severus walks to the only door, but hesitates at the doorknob. "If...when he is finished with you, I will try to be the one to return you to Alexander's."

The weak promise is my only sustenance in the long waiting minutes. I dare not sit or touch any of the few things laid out. Instead, I stand, drinking in the new location and beating down the fear rising in my stomach. Everything will work out fine. Obviously. It has too. There's no reason Severus won't be seeing me again.

Nearly an hour later, if my time sense is still on, I am not alone in the room any longer. I assume that he too appearated here and in the brief moment before the wolf is filled with his strange scent I wonder for the last time where here is. I am destined never to know.

"You may sit."

I do, gratefully, on the bed. There aren't any chairs.

"Do you know who I am?"

I shake my head, though by this time I can make some fairly accurate guesses.

"I am not someone to be trifled with."

The wolf rolls over, stomach up, throat exposed. This man, still completely hidden from my sight with mask and cloak, guts me with every phrase, stokes a lust that I thought I would never find.

"You will obey me." Yes, yes, yes... "Or you will be punished."

I will not be punished. I will obey. I sit quietly, watching only as he peels his cloak away and the mask falls to the wayside.

)*(

He was fifty that day, I would find out months later. I was something of a birthday present from Alexander though I doubted that had I been asked for specifically I wouldn't have been offered up on a silver platter.

I did not know his age then. Magic has a way of preserving flesh and he used magics strong enough to keep him in his twenties for decades more. The only hint of his real age was the way he inhabited that youthful body. Every simple act bespoke command, readiness and a sureness that ran in the very marrow of his bones.

Seventeen and silly, despite the wolves added instincts, I only knew that he aroused me.

)*(

"Take off your clothes." He orders.

I rise silently, taking off my shirt and jeans in the same swift, economical movements he had. It is a whore's talent to remove clothing with speed and fluidity. Not that I suspect that he was ever like me. He simply knows his body in a way I could never hope to.

"A mediocre thing you are in looks. That scar..."

For the first time, he touches me and the shiver that overtakes me is violent.

"Severus didn't speak to you of me?"

I shake my head. Permission to speak has not yet been given.

"A wise boy." Yes, Severus is very wise, but I smell on him always a tinge of fear and a deep throbbing vein of pain that might very well get him killed one day. I say none of this, but maybe my thoughts are clear enough.

"You think him weak, wolf? You may answer."

"I think he is strong in many ways." I say diplomatically. I can't know how important Severus is here. Though it is difficult to imagine him in any real leadership position. Too young, too angry.

"What is your specialty at that quaint little whore house?"

"Only the changes of the moon." Some of the boys like to play up their talents, but it only leads to disappointment and poor tipping if you can't follow through.

"Mediocre in looks and in bed. Do you wonder why I chose you?"

"No."

"No?" An amused smile twitched his lips.

"I don't need to know."

"Too true." The hand returns to my shoulder again, tracing the scars until I am covered in sweat. "I will tell you anyway. Get down on your knees and suck me off."

I drop wordlessly, anxious to bury my nose in the thick scent of his arousal. He is aroused, but I know it is not for me. Not for my paltry body. This is not a man who needs a whore to slack his lusts. I lick delicately at the head, tastebuds easily overwhelmed by bitterness. As soon as I take the head into my mouth and begin suck in earnest, I hear his voice.

"I have a fascination for the dark creatures of the world. Magic works in such strange ways, ways that I have long studied. They fascinate me. Dark and light magics intertwine a lot more then you know. There are creatures who walk the line, neither one nor the other. Wizards, we are gifted enough to walk that line and wise enough to choose a side. The light has long since been explored to its fullest. It is attractive and easy. A child can do it with a simple flick of his wrist. But the dark...there is so much more to study, ways to take things apart."

I try to concentrate on his words and his cock at the same time, being both wolf and human. I know something has been said that should concern me, but I cannot bring myself to care.

"I have had several of the darkest creatures taken up. I've studied them, but I was left with many questions. Too many of the dark creatures are mute or too alien to communicate properly. I had some luck with vampires, but their blood lust makes them difficult to control."

It is not a reflection of my skill, I hope, that this speech is said without the slightest hint of distraction, despite my earnest activities. The organ under my hand and in my mouth seems interested, but the man is disengaged.

"I wanted a werewolf. There aren't many of you in the world left alive. Most still around are feral and utterly useless to my needs. It seems that they go mad after a while. There are those among my factions who would think me completely daft if they knew I had allowed you into my bedroom, let alone touch me. But we know differently, don't we? Enough of that. Get up."

Reluctantly, I pull back and rise to my feet, swaying only a little.

"On your stomach."

Surely that whine isn't me. Surely...but it must be because he would never. I go, the gentle caress of a high thread count can't distract me from the warmth of his breath on the nape of my neck. He continues to whisper in my ear, even as he thrusts fingers slick with some potion or another into me.

"I know that wolves respect a leader, they have their alpha and to go against his word is to become leader or perish. Any werewolf who has survived intact as you have, doing what you do, that is not the making of an alpha. I had only to be your alpha and you will follow me to the ends of the earth, crawling on your belly over glass shards. I would only have to ask. And if I were to leave you behind, never speak to you again or allow you to see me, I would still have your complete loyalty. No matter what your rational human mind does, I will own you now."

He thrusts into my body, but there was no need. The physical taking is nominal. His words were enough. For the first time in my short life, I feel owned. I am in the presence of a master, of my master. I cannot..will not allow myself to think about what this means for me. My life view has always been dim and short. I never imagine making it beyond next month's change, cannot afford to. I only know that at this moment, I have been taken and I have pack.

)*(

It has been nearly twenty years since he whispered those words into my ear. He has fallen, risen and fallen again. Even in death, even in the deepest betrayal, I knew that had he come before me I would have crawled over the fiercest tortures to kneel contentedly at his side.

It is not something I am proud of. Nor do I feel shame. It only is and I cannot explain why. With the Wolfsbane potion, werewolves have begun to connect with each other and live and thrive. Discreetly, I've asked about pack tendencies and none seem to have experienced what I did that night until this day. Can it be that what he did to me had nothing to do with wolf behavior? It's certainly possible, he was powerful.

But more likely, it was me and the wolf, that curious symbiotic that makes werefolk as different as fingerprints and his strange, beguiling scent. Had my brethren met him, perhaps they to would have done as I did that night and many nights that followed.

)*(

In the last gasps of the night, Severus gathers my defeated body from the floor and takes me, not to Alexander's, but to his own rooms. Too tired to do more then follow raggedly, I only get the vaguest idea of a labyrinth like building, before Severus tugs me into a smaller cozier set of rooms. It is damp here, and the sweat of my exertions has long since dried, leaving me shivering in the seductive clothes I came in.

In swift silence, Severus sits me down in a comfortable chair, built up the fire and threw a blanket over me. He busies himself in the next room, returning a few moments later with some tea. It is unsweetened, but I drink it anyway. Rewarmed and sleepy, I'm barely aware of Severus speaking to me. It is not nearly as seductive or promising as my lords swift speech, but I can see now that it is the voice of a friend.

"You left him in much better shape then most do. But he does not wish to return you to Alexander's. There is little choice for you. Either you serve him willingly or you will be chained in the dungeons for the foreseeable future. Whichever way you choose, I am to be your jailer."

"I won't try to escape." A yawn cracks my jaw and I fight the urge to slumber right where I am.

"Come, I have a bed prepared."

Just as I'm about to drift off to sleep, I feel dry lips at my temple. It is a chaste kiss, but it burns with possession. I try to tell him that I am already claimed, that none else shall have me all my long days, but I am far to tired and besides, he is already gone.

)*(

I hear you, speaking of me, dark tones and light.

"Wake him! Enough of this!"

Oh my sweet Severus, who even in betrayal loved me so dearly as to save my hide.

"He is coming out of it by himself, Professor." And that would be the whelp that killed my master without so much as conscious thought.

I smell them all now, standing around me anxious. Dumbledore is present, close at hand, the power leaking from him palpable to those with even the deadest senses. Muggles trembled before that man, but he is not half the wizard of my master.

But I will forget that all in a few moments. Some signal will be given, a clap or a whistle and I will leave behind this fugue state where all is remembered without the agony of madness. All this has been sealed off from me for so long. I don't know if I can bear to lose it again. And yet, I must.

For one last time I revel in the smell of my master, still strong in memory. I rolled in his clothing once when I was given free reign of his bedroom. Rolled until everything smelled just as he did. Now, I rub myself in my own memory.

And there it is, a clap that resounds through my skull, leaving destruction and walls in its wake.

)*(

Remus woke up from the session more tired then from a change. He had to be helped to bed, where he sleeps now only feet from my chair. I wanted to write this down though I doubt I shall keep it. Leaving incriminating documents is for the brainless masses.

When he woke, a sharp tang filled the air. I've always had a sharper then average sense of smell, its what comes with having such a prestigious nose. The others seemed not to recognize it at all. But I do remember, having spent too many nights in his presence to forget.

My Lord loved subtleties, liked his messages served up in delicate roundabout ways. Deep in the war, my treachery discovered, he captured Remus...he captured him and healed the scars on his shoulder. Every last one disappeared as though they had never been. In their place, he left a web of false memories. When I found him on the battle field, he was trying to kill Ms. Granger. The poor twit was so shocked by that betrayal she barely defended herself.

The corrupted memory banks can never be healed, only walled off and prevented from causing further damage. It was Harry's idea that we search the corrupted memories for clues to my Lord's secrets, in case he should have plans to rise a third time. I cursed and pleaded, but no one heeded me as usual. Remus agreed quietly, undermining my objections with aplomb.

I fear for his sanity every time he regresses into those dark places. How can I not? If I lose him, I lose all I have left in the world, the only love I have ever known since I was torn early from my mother's breast. I can see in the way the wolf comes to the forefront when their mentioned, that the false memories are constantly checking their boundaries. My own time bomb from my dear Lord.

When I set down my pen, I will curl into bed with my lover, who I took so long in getting. I will stroke his hair and sleep. In the morning, we will talk about it, he will remember nothing, but his eyes will gleam oddly. I will try and be happy, but in the far reaches of my mind I count the days.

One morning, I will wake to find my room in shreds, the crest above my bed cut neatly away and I will follow a trail of blood to his first victims. What Harry will never understand, could not, is that my Lord does not need to resurrect himself. Those that follow him, even the traitors, always follow him. I am Severus Snape, Order of Merlin First Class for going above and beyond the call of duty.

And on that morning when I find that blood trail, I will kill Albus and Harry, if Remus has not already gotten to them.

You see...scent is strong in memory and the fragrance of the garden outside of Alexander's is not the only one I have not forgotten.

)*(


End file.
